Darque Wants, page 8
part #5 of Darque Billionaire Series
“Actually, I was just looking for some cheap shit,” he said, smiling ear to ear. “Then I saw you and there was a change of plans.”
She laughed as they jumped into the brown Silverado, just as a cowboy ought to have.
“And the truth is…” He smiled and tipped his hat. “I can’t stand coffee and I suck at making small talk.”
“Hmmm.” She almost laughed, but it was more of a little “eep” as she gently gnawed her finger. “I live right up the street. On Clayton Avenue. Can we stop by there real quick?”
“Sure thing.”
The truck pulled up to the dirt parking lot and parked. Jaroth jumped out of his side, walking up to Marionne who was fishing through her purse.
“I just wanted to check something…this is my back door to the kitchen.”
Before she could finish, Jaroth had invaded her space and put his head nearer to hers, tilting his head and ready for a kiss.
She opened her mouth, as if to say something, maybe a mood killer. But nothing came out. She closed her eyes and let his lips touch hers—fiery burning lips but soft like a glass of tea. Right in front of her doorstep, he kissed her and being a lad of no willpower, couldn’t even break the embrace. He kissed her long and deep, tasting her lips and inhaling her scent. Her soft little moans only encouraged him to press on harder, devouring her spittle and tasting her moist tongue.
She pushed him away gently, eyeing him in caution. “You really have no manners, Mister Jaroth.”
“No self-control neither,” he said, kissing a path from her lips to her chin and then over to her side jaw. “But to tell you the truth, this is all I’ve really thought about doing since I saw you.”
“Despicable,” she said, as he grabbed her wrists and pushed them against the wall.
He placed his hot lips on her neck and pecked a V-pattern to the other side, feeling her body temperature increase. She cooed softly, aware that she in broad day light and right in front of her door making out, but too excited at the taboo of it all to say no.
He buried his face into her bosom, rubbing his lips on her chest and kissing her red-hot flesh till he was short of breath.
“Ahhh…” she sighed, too excited to stop but barely mindful of the scandal she might cause if someone caught sight of this. “Let me find my keys.”
“Ain’t nothing to be ashamed of,” he said, giving her a laugh. She broke away from his hungry eyes long enough to locate her keys. She turned around and faced the door but was quickly scooped up by his stronger hands. He put his arms around her waist and dug up under her white blouse, finding her tummy and letting his hand rub upwards until he found her bra.
She exhaled swiftly and shoved the key into the lock. Barely knowing his name, and not trusting him worth a damn, she opened the door and let him in, standing helplessly daring him to do his worst.
Too impatient to even find her bedroom he lunged at her and picked her up by the legs, carrying her over to the kitchen table, the first room they entered. He sat her down on the counter and returned to her hot chest, pushing his lips through the material and connecting with her body.
She tried to lift her blouse for him, but wasn’t fast enough. Incensed with lust, he took both his hands and ripped her blouse down the middle helping himself to her cleavage and leaving hot, steamy flecks all the way down to her white bra.
She sighed loudly, rubbing her hands all over his shirt, dying to see what he had underneath. He pulled open the buttons of his shirt and exposed his slightly hairy chest, enjoying the sensation of Marionne caressing his body with her fingernails.
He grabbed her by the head and planted another kiss on her lips, reaching around and unfastening her bra strap, yeah just like an old pro, she thought to herself with a naughty smile.
He grabbed it and tossed it to the floor, grabbing her breasts and placing burning kisses all over her flesh. He grabbed her breasts together and took turns sucking each hardening nipple. His energy was so fierce, so unstoppable, she could do nothing but hold onto his hair for dear life as he made love.
“Mmmm…” she groaned loudly as he licked a circle around her areola with that yummy wet tongue, sending shivers up her spine. She looked up to the ceiling, burning inside from the intensity, and smacking her fists against the cabinet above her.
“Yeah…” she said softly, watching as he began yanking off his belt. He pulled it out from the loops and cracked the straps hard, sending Marionne into a fit of giggles.
A smiling Jaroth unbuttoned his jeans and pulled his pants down, letting her take a long, exploitative look at that big excited erection he was sporting. Real cowboys don’t wear underwear.
He stroked his growing member himself, then let her take over and handle his shaft, like charming a big old snake, she concluded.
She leaned up, letting Jaroth pull her skirt to the floor. For once, he took a whole moment to thank the universe for this lucky day—feeling every inch and groove of her thigh and ankles, and kissing a stream all the way from her legs to her white panties.
He took special delight in feasting his lips on her bare thigh flesh. He bent down so he could put his lips and nose to her panties—already wet, and the smell and texture only seemed to make him harder and less gentlemanly about his raw desires.
He massaged her wet spot with his palm, and pushed her legs slightly apart so he could roll her panties down and toss them to the floor. He shifted her into position, taking on more of her leg weight and readying her for a good hard thrust.
“Condom in my pocket…”
“No.”
“Fixed?”
“Something like that…”
“Are you sure?”
“Mmmmmm!” she said in stuttering weakness as he pushed forward, driving his thick head into her open lips. “Yes…I want you…come inside of me…”
“Mmmm-hmmm,” he grunted, looking down at her moist pubic hair and making sure the rest of his shaft was going in deep but gentle. “You like that?”
“Oh yes, yes…” she shut her eyes and groaned, rotating her pelvis so that the thrusts went in even deeper.
Jaroth pushed her further on the counter, but kept thrusting, freeing his hands to clutch her breasts while he penetrated her.
“Ohhhh God! Keep going, keep going…”
“You coming close?” he said, smiling into her eyes and moving his strong hands to her belly. He pressed down right below her navel and kept the thrust going strong.
“Yes! Yessss!” she screamed, shifting back and forth and causing more friction and sliding.
“Gentleman’s way,” he said with a smile. “He don’t come till a lady says he can go.”
“Mmmm-haahh!” she said, interrupting a groan with a hearty laugh. They stared each other in the eye as Jaroth kept stroking, filling every inch of her and making her wheeze with every breath she took.
“Ohh yeah! Here it comes…”
She shut her eyes tight, while Jaroth pounded harder, cramming his member so deep their wet pubic hair meshed together, and their voices chanting in unison.
“Oh Godddd!” she screamed, as Jaroth clenched her fingers with his, letting her spasm out of control. Watching her glorious orgasm finally got to him and he watched red-faced as his own body shook hard back and forth, forcing him to come inside of her, filling her up with every last bolt he had in his body.
He groaned loud and rough, like he’d just been shot in the stomach, and could barely lift her from the counter to the floor with those wobbly arms. They kissed once last time—hearty and wet, satiated like spring water in the desert.
Spent and needing a breather, Marionne finally showed the troublemaker to her bedroom. Looked as good as any Jaroth figured, but he still had the hots for the kitchen.
“Why do you like the kitchen so much?” Marionne asked with a giggle. The two lounged on the bed, Jaroth naked and comfy as can be, and Marionne still hot and bothered by her torn blouse which was too shredded to cover anything.
“Dunno. “Everybody does it in the bedroom. And I hate when people expect me to do something, you know? Life should be full of surprises?”
“Such a rebel, aren’t ya?”
“That’s what gets me laid, I hear.”
“Nah. I don’t go for any of that macho bullshit.”
“Oh really? You say with my nasty seed still floating around looking for a home?”
“Let’s just say, looks are never underrated in my book.”
“Whaaat?” Jaroth replied with a grin. “Wait just a damn minute. Are you telling me that you seduced me? That you wanted to bump and grind as soon as we met eyes?”
“Why do you think I was playing so shy and hard to get?”
“Ohhhh fuck me,” he said with a pout. “And here I thought I was Jesse James. All bad ass. Only to find out the lady was playing me all along.”
“You’re good, but maybe I’m Calamity Jane.”
They kissed again.
“Naw, the truth is, you were a good thing for me,” Marionne said. “Been kind of down and out lately. Nothing wrong with a woman feeling better about herself, right?”
“Damn, what is wrong with these people? A beautiful woman like you and everybody just ignores her needs? I oughta horsewhip everyone in town.”
“Well…more like they’re a bit afraid.”
“Pretty lady ain’t nothing to be afraid of.”
“Yeah…but…” She looked at him in uncertainty. “But married seems to scare a lot of them away.”
“What?” Jaroth asked, wide-eyed and finally taking a step back from his prize. “You’re kidding?”
“Well…”
“Played and played,” Jaroth laughed. “I honestly had no idea. You didn’t say nothing about it.”
“Well, the truth is they’re all afraid to approach me because I WAS married. I was a married woman just last week. But I just lost my husband on Saturday.”
“What the everlasting fuck?” Jaroth said, slithering back away from Marionne in judgment. “It took you a week to get over him?”
She laughed. “Yeah, if only women acted like men and could get away with that stuff, right?” She seemed a bit pensive when describing the old man. “I honestly don’t know if he’s dead or not. He could be dead. Might still be alive. I sure as hell never saw a body.”
“He’s probably dead?”
“Probably. Or not.”
“Well…” Jaroth shifted a little nervously on the bed. “I mean, what are the odds the man’s going to come home to find me ass naked in his bedroom and seek vengeance with his rifle? Probably good odds?”
“Probably good odds,” Marionne said, followed by a laugh. “No, no, don’t stress over it.”
Marionne had a closed lip and apprehensive smile as she confessed the truth. “Truth is, Mister John Brown isn’t like other guys. And since he purposely intended to die this time, whether he faked it or really did something stupid, it’s just about high time I stopped letting him get to me.”
“You think he faked his own death?”
“Could have been. He goes into what you might call depressive moods. He hibernates a few months, then comes back home. Broods mostly, talks about all kinds of darkness in his head. If married life with me is making him so miserable, why worry myself about it?”
“Well…I can’t speak for that. I just never really heard of a man faking his own death. Doesn’t sound like a fella with all oars in the water if you know what I mean. No offense.”
“None taken,” she said, staring up at the ceiling in peace.
“Is he a good man though?” Jaroth said, running his mouth a bit, maybe trying to guilt himself into a state of regret.
“He’s not a great husband.”
“Well I mean…does he cheat? Does he push you around?”
“Ummm…well, let’s just say he is a violent sort of guy. But violence to him, well…it’s not like what most men consider violence.”
“Well, if he ever lays a hand on a lady, I’ll set his ass straight,” Jaroth said firmly.
“Now, now…” Marionne said, staring off into space; the only thing scaring her more than a dead husband, a live one. “Don’t bite off more than you can chew, Jaroth Hudson.”
Marionne bid Jaroth good evening and let the poor boy go, figuring no man good in bed deserved a double sentence of cuddling. But even more important, was the lingering memory of one John Brown. Sure, she was pissed at him. But the worst the old fool was ever going to do was hurt himself.
She walked over to Eastland to see if John might be in his favorite spot, that goddamned camping spot he always talked about when they discussed a vacation. John Brown loved the outdoors and anyone who knew him found that out in a minute’s worth of small talk. She figured if he was still alive then he was probably hiding out near woodlands, as usual, and probably out of town so no one could chase him down.
But she had one conversation left in her, and though John didn’t deserve anything special for being an idiot, she sure did. She walked through the town at dusk until she found some sign of life.
“Hey,” Marionne yelled to a nearby ranch hand. “You seen John Brown anywhere around here all week?”
“John Brown?”
“Yeah, you’d know him. He’s the only guy who walks around talking to the wind and kicking his own hat.”
“Yeah kind of a crazy guy,” the man replied. “He mentioned something about going to an Indian reservation. Apparently he’s got Indian in him or something. Because if a gringo like me tried that, I’d probably get scalped.”
“Probably would,” she said matter-of-factly. “Okay then, I’ll look for him.”
“The closest one here is probably Barona. Keep heading out of town till you hit the crossroads. Be about a dozen signs telling you to stay out. But maybe they’ll be easier on a lady.”
“Heck, I can charm the jeans off a cowboy. What can an Indian do to me?”
John Brown didn’t let her get that far, but made his presence known as soon as she passed the unfriendly group of signs. Thirties and handsome with thick brown hair and brown eyes, John Brown was not a scary-looking man. He dressed in an open jacket and shorts, always eager to shed his skin and walk as close to naked as possible in natural woodland. But his face was harsh, stoic and bereft of all human weakness. When he gritted his teeth, he looked ferocious. When he frowned he brought a deadly silence to a room. When he laughed or smiled, indeed as rare a sight as that was, he brought energy into a color-deprived go-nowhere-world. John Brown was less a man than a true force of nature stuck in human form.
“You shouldn’t have come looking for me,” the deep and grumbling voice said to her, seeming to come from above, then below, then behind.
“And when the hell do I ever listen to you, John Brown?”
“Never. And you’re smarter for it.”
“Jesus. You really couldn’t tell me? Your own partner? You just up and left like a damned five-year-old.”
“As far as I’m concerned, I AM dead. I don’t want you coming around me no more. I’m not safe, Marionne. All those things I promised in our vows, I can’t live up to them. I’m telling you to go away for your own good.”
“Spare me the brooding act this time, JB. I don’t care,” she said, raising her voice in spite. “I’m not crying any more tears for you. I’m not chasing you down anymore. I’ve just come to tell you, don’t you dare treat me like an idiot. I know. I know everything you do before you do it, okay?”
“You came all the way out here to tell me that you’re not chasing after me? Makes sense.”
“I came to tell you I’m through. So don’t go waltzing back into your old life, thinking we can pick up where we left off, after you spend a year eating wild berries. I’m through this time.”
“Sounds fair.”
“And I’m not free anymore either.”
“What?”
“You know what it means.”
“You have a boyfriend? That was fast.”
“Yeah well, you sure up and died fast, didn’t you?”
“I guess I did.”
“Well then, I’m in mourning, asshole. I’m going to sleep with every guy I meet just to forget about you completely. I’ll be knee-deep in such bullshit drama that I won’t even think your name.”
“It’s not what you deserve. It’s not what I want. But this is the way it has to be.”
John Brown, fighting his own ambivalence, took Marionne’s hands in his own and spoke earnestly. “You will never hear from me again. I really mean it, Marionne. Find happiness. You deserve someone better than me.”
“I do,” she pouted. “And all those years together meant nothing!” she said, barely getting through the sentence without choking, and giving John Brown more credit than he deserved right now.
Marionne folded her arms and began walking back to town. “Don’t come around no more. Don’t bother my boyfriend either. You owe me that.”
“I won’t.”
John Brown looked down to the ground in shame. He couldn’t take his eyes off Marionne, not then, not now, or forever. “For what it’s worth…”
“It’s not worth anything, JB,” she said quickly.
“I never stopped loving you.”
“Like I don’t know that!” she said, fighting tears and gritting her teeth.
Jaroth fell head over heels for Marionne pretty quickly. It wasn’t every day a woman he just met took him to bed, after all, and women that pretty usually had a whole lot of drama going on in their lives. With Marionne, he always wondered, “What’s the catch? How did I end up with a looker like her?”
Well, Jaroth figured, Marionne may have a possibly-alive husband somewhere, but that’s still better than dating one of those drama queens from Houston.
Jaroth wasn’t a violent man particularly, able to hold his own, but most of his gruff was show for the ladies. He was the type of guy who didn’t even hunt, because killing a beautiful animal just didn’t seem like the thrill sport everyone claimed it was.
Knowing that, it’s fairly understandable why Jaroth became spooked while camping in East Texas the next weekend.
